


Reunion

by Nebulad



Series: Sea of Stars [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, ME2, Wee bit of angst, snapshot fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s boring, really. You show up, you save some people, they give you a nickname. Pretty standard stuff.”</p><p>“You weren’t alone though,” Shepard argued. He backed up a little. The Garrus he’d been with her was different than who he’d been as Archangel, who was different yet than who he was now. He didn’t know how to be her Garrus anymore and he didn’t know how to introduce her to the vigilante he’d wanted to be.</p><p>“I wasn’t but now I am. I don’t- I can’t talk about this yet Shepard.” Stop asking. He didn’t even know where he stood with Faust- it’d been two years for him but she’d died right after the 'what are you wearing' conversation. Did he still feel that way about her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 “I’m sorry dad. I’m sorry we fought all the time and I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” Garrus said. He wouldn’t make the same mistake he’d made with Faust, leaving things unsaid in the hopes that a miracle would happen and he would see his dad again. Garrus was short ten people _(nine, short nine good people and one filthy goddamn traitor that he hoped died as slowly and painfully as possible)_ with every mercenary on Omega circling him like they smelled blood.

“Listen, son. It doesn’t matter now- fire every shot in your clip before reloading and get out of there. We can talk when you’re home,” Talus said, an edge of subtle panic in his voice.

“Tell mom-” He aimed, trying to think of what he could say to make up for avoiding her death bed for two years. There was another wave coming, a bunch of young kids that the bastards hired as fodder- then two people that actually looked competent. “Tell mom that I’m sorry I haven’t called her. Or come to see her. I know I’m a bad son.”

“You aren’t,” Talus defended ferociously. Both of the new mercs were human, one with long black hair that was casually pulled back into ponytail and sleek black and orange armour. The human beside her was older, with a face that looked like it’d been shattered to pieces and then sewn back together again, with armour that looked the same.

Garrus still had Cachia’s comm hack, and figured now was a good time to use it. Both of them were packing weapons so advanced that they couldn’t have been fodder- if they were, then the gangs were dumber than they looked. There was a purr of static before he heard voices. “...not sure about this. How do we know he’ll stop shooting when we get up there?” That was the one in orange and black.

“Slap the goddamn gun out of his hands,” said the patchwork merc. “He’ll be real friendly then.”

“Look, we’ll deal with it when we’re up there.” Garrus heart froze in his throat and he all but leapt over cover to aim down his sights. All in silver and blue- Armax Arsenal, her favourite, always her favourite because it gave her so much bonus ammo capacity and she would have given every credit chit in the world to get a shotgun with ammo to spare- was Faust.

Her hair was shorter and her scars were different- her face was odd without the same marks but he _knew_ her face even with a full eyebrow on her right and with the puckered silver line across her chin missing. Her wounds were raw and red across her cheeks but her nose was the same, and her eyes the same bright brown that stared in vicious analysis of everything around her.

“I’ll call you back dad,” he breathed.

“Garrus?” Talus didn’t even try to hide his fear.

“My chances just got a whole lot better. I’ll call you back,” he said. He didn’t blame Talus for being nervous- Garrus couldn’t force air out of his lungs to form words, he couldn’t process what he was seeing. The comm was still going but he could barely hear over the rushing in his ears.

“Guy in his position can’t really be picky about his friends,” Faust added carelessly.

“What about the other mercs?” the one in black and orange asked. Garrus took his cue and shot the one standing nearest to Patchwork. To his surprise, Faust looked disappointed.

“Fucking asshole,” she snapped in his general direction. “Whatever. I guess we’ll do this real fucking fast, like a band-aid.” She whistled, jolting all the fodder mercs in cover around her. Garrus gritted his teeth impatiently. “Listen- everyone funnel through that opening as fast as you can and take cover right before you enter the apartment.”

They followed her because she had that sort of look about her- trustworthy, like she knew what she was doing. He aimed at her and took out her barrier, half out of impatience and half to help her cover. She’d been standing in the open without getting shot at for too long.

She mumbled something _(va te faire foutre)_ and shifted behind some cover. “Miranda, see that barrel?”

“On it, Commander,” the one in black and orange said, pulling out a handgun. There was an explosion below him and Garrus almost laughed- Shepard had lined them all up right beside one of Mierin’s makeshift bombs.

“Is now a good time to mention that I don’t want a new turian?” Faust said, coming out of cover. He hit her barriers again, to scold her- she hadn’t been hiding from the other mercs, she’d been hiding from an unknown hostile that had a vantage point. _“And I especially don’t want this one.”_

“I told you Commander, Garrus Vakarian dropped off the grid. Cerberus doesn’t keep adequate tabs on aliens and we have no means of tracking him down.” Garrus stomach clenched. Faust had been looking for him- if he’d _known…_

Well, her being alive would have changed a lot of things. Maybe the team would still be alive.

“He can track down an elusive vigilante on a lawless space station, but can’t find a cop on the Citadel?” she demanded. She was taking her sweet time getting up those stairs, so he kept his eyes trained to the entryway. They would either try and see if Shepard could take him down, or send in another wave of fodder, assuming she was dead.

“Let it go, Shepard.”

“I’m not letting it go, this guy is a douche.” She was in the doorway, rapping on the frame. “Knock knock, dickhead. We’re here to pull your ass out of the fire, even though-” He put his hand up, hoping it wasn’t shaking. The mercs had sent a scout to tally bodies- he sent a bullet home, then turned to her. He was disappointed with her irritated face before remembering he was wearing a helmet.

He decided to milk it a little- he’d been waiting this long for her, she could wait a little while for him. He settled down on the arm of one of the couches, content to wait for them to realize that Shep wasn’t coming back down. He lifted the releases on his helmet and put it back down on the tabl-

“ _Ow-_ Shepard, really?” he asked. The second his helmet had come off he’d hit the floor with a face full of fully armoured human.

“You stupid dick you _fired_ at me!” she shouted, but he was pretty sure she was hugging him- that or attempting to constrict his airways and kill him.

“If you’d just hurried up I wouldn’t have had to rush you,” he scolded. “Let me up- all those mercs coming at me all day and you're the first one to land a hit.”

“I was hugging you.”

“Do human hugs usually involve tackling?” he teased. He felt like he might have cried if there was anything left in him- Shepard was alive but everyone else was dead. Shepard would know what to do, how to _fix this_ \- there was nothing that could be fixed, he’d already fucked it up beyond repair, but Shepard was a miracle worker. Speaking of which… “Not to spoil the moment, but I thought you died?”

She sat with her legs sprawled out in front of her, staring over at him. “Human Supremacist group put me back together to save human colonies getting abducted,” she said as if it was obvious.

“Not the way I would have described it.” Faust waved her hand.

“Garrus this is Miranda Lawson, leading lady in charge of putting my ass back together. This over here is Zaeed, bounty hunter,” she said. “Guys, _this_ is Garrus Vakarian.”

“So you’ll take the turian and admit that Cerberus managed to find your friend?” Miranda asked.

“I will do _one_ of those things.”

“ _Cerberus?”_ That wasn't right. That couldn’t have been right because Shepard had been wrecked for _days_ when she’d found that corporal from Akuze and found out that Cerberus had been the one to release the Thresher Maw on them.

Faust’s nose wrinkled up. “I know, but I figured that no one else is investigating our colonies and they brought me back from the dead and rebuilt the Normandy so I _guess_ I can accept the wads of money they’re throwing at me to do something I would have done for the Council for free.”

“If you say so Commander- if we can get out of here, then I’m with you.”

. . . . .

They set the bodies of his squad on fire just before the gunship launched on them. As Garrus’ world was eaten up by unconsciousness and _pain,_ while he listened to Faust screaming at him to keep awake and then screaming at the others to get help, he thought that at least he’d been able to do that much for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Cybernetics- apparently he was bionic now, just like Shepard. There was a weird, flesh coloured bag that was holding the right side of his crest together and he couldn’t smile without feeling the tug of his burnt skin, but all in all he’d escaped relatively unscathed. He’d woken up to the sweet sound of Faust shouting at Doctor Chakwas’ Cerberus assistants, sort of having expected it all to have been a dream. He’d figured he’d snap awake under cover again, fighting for his life and having dreamt that she was back.

He settled down into the gun room, guilt churning in his gut. He was so relieved to see Shepard- words couldn’t describe the mixture of fear and euphoria because she was _alive_ but what if it wasn’t real, what if it didn’t last, he couldn’t question the miracle or it would disappear. On top of that relief, however, were nine dead bodies that he was responsible for. Nine people were dead because he hadn’t been vigilant, nine _decent_ people who had only wanted to help and do good were dead because of him and _Sidonis._

He wanted to find Sidonis. Then, he wanted to kill Sidonis. Sometimes he wanted to do it very slowly, piece by piece like an angry krogan, just ripping off chunks of fringe and crest until there was a bloody goddamn mess and then blow what was left of his head off. Sometimes he thought he’d be satisfied with a cool, clean headshot. The bastard didn’t even have to know it was Garrus.

“Hey there Vakarian.” His heart jumped but he couldn’t shake off the gloom. Faust leaned against the door, wearing something that Miranda had clearly picked out for her. She was grinning, though, like she’d just found a credit chit on the ground.

“Hey yourself, Shepard.” Her hug was less violent this time, her arms draped around his hips and her forehead against his chest. “How’s life treating you?”

“I woke up prematurely on an operating table because the building was under attack by reprogrammed mechs. The guy who reprogrammed them worked with me for half an hour before Miranda shot him in the head,” she said, not moving away.

“Anyone else and I’d say they were lying,” he teased.

“I’m more curious about Archangel,” she ventured, looking up at him finally. He shrugged noncommittally.

“It’s boring, really. You show up, you save some people, they give you a nickname. Pretty standard stuff.” _Stop asking, Faust. Don’t ask._

“You weren’t alone though,” she argued. He backed up a little. The Garrus he’d been with Shepard was different than who he’d been as Archangel, who was different yet than who he was now. He didn’t know how to be her Garrus anymore and he didn’t know how to introduce her to the vigilante he’d wanted to be.

“I wasn’t but now I am. I don’t- I can’t talk about this yet Shepard.” _Stop asking._ He didn’t even know where he stood with Faust- it’d been two years for him but she’d died right after the _what are you wearing_ conversation. Did he still feel that way about her?

“Okay.” She put her hands up, taking them away from him. There was a rush of disappointment and he almost laughed. _That answers that, at least._ “If you want to talk, though....”

“I know exactly where to go: the reanimated ghost of my old boss,” he said, ruffling her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

He accepted Faust’s invitation up to her room after a deeply unsatisfying supper in the mess because he figured it would decisively tell him where he stood with her. He wanted desperately to slip into old skin and allow himself to feel the way he felt two years ago- Commander Shepard, a Spectre, a legend, a weirdly pretty alien, and the person who had cared about what _he_ thought- but things were different. _He_ was different and he wasn’t sure if she would care for the different he was.

She was changed too, but he couldn’t put his finger on how. She looked a little off, sure, but he didn’t really care about that; he was already trying to make some cognitive jumps to try and see her like other humans did (it wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to her _at all_ , but five fingers was _too many)._

When he opened her door, he whistled. “Cerberus really set you up,” he said, looking at the empty aquarium. She grinned, patting the bed beside her.

“You haven’t seen the best thing,” she told him, almost fidgeting. He wondered if she was coming on to him, but didn’t say anything either way. He’d turn her down no matter how he felt- he didn’t really believe in sex for the sake of having it and didn’t feel like they were at a point in their relationship where it would… mean anything.

“And what would the best part be?” he asked.

“EDI can you open the view port?” she said loudly.

“Yes Commander.” Garrus would need a _long time_ to get used to the AI. Shepard seemed remarkably okay with it, but Shep knew how to roll with the punches better. She used what she could and ignored what she couldn’t.

The lights dimmed low enough that when her ceiling slid back to reveal an enormous, clear window that gave off the most startling view of the stars rushing by that Garrus had ever seen, they weren’t bothered by reflections of the room. “Damn, Shepard,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” she murmured back, very gently guiding him down to lay on his back. She laid beside him, staring up at the rush of space jetting past them.

“I… wouldn’t think this would be good for you,” he said tentatively. “Wrex told me you got spaced.”

“I don’t even remember it,” she said, but she was lying. Garrus hadn’t become a detective by being stupid. “I just like to look at it. It’s big and beautiful and doesn’t make any sense… and we’re gunna save all of it,” she added.

“We sure are.” It seemed like a daunting task suddenly- he supposed it was, but it never felt like it before. Everything had come at them in easy, bite-sized pieces: go here, fight this, find something to lead them to Saren, find Saren, stop him. It was all so… small. They hadn’t planned any of it- and yet this operation was sketched out from top to bottom, almost. Whatever they didn’t know, Garrus was sure the Illusive Man did.

He was going to say something about that- how much more prepared they were to save all those sparkly stars this time- but felt her finger run lightly up his and lost all higher brain function. His panic must have shown, because she moved to take her hand back; he scrambled to stop her, trying to find a comfortable way of weaving their fingers together without looking directly at their hands (that would ruin the moment, he was sure, if he revealed that he was at all thrown off by how many damn _fingers_ humans had).

He did look over at her, though, and she was grinning at the universe. “I’m glad you’re back, Shepard,” he said. It wasn’t what he wanted to convey, but he wasn’t as brave as he liked to think- not with this sort of thing anyway.

“Glad to be back, Vakarian.”


	4. Chapter 4

 “You blocked the shot.”

“Uh yeah, for a little while. You still got him though.”

“ _Why_ did you block the shot?” Garrus asked through gritted teeth. He was punching the buttons on his console much harder than he had to but he was so _angry._ He was _hurt-_ Shepard had been the one to build his confidence when he was a young cop trying to impress his dad. Shepard always listened to him and valued his opinions- _trusted him._

But she’d stepped in front of Sidonis.

She’d moved, eventually, when Garrus had denounced him as a goddamn coward, but she’d blocked the shot like he didn’t know what he was doing. The whole time they’d been after Harkin she’d helped, but she’d also kept stopping to ask if he was _okay_ and _sure this was what he wanted._

“I just wanted to know that you were sure,” she said, leaning back against the wall.

“And me _telling you_ that I was sure wasn’t enough?” he snapped. He felt- he didn’t know how he felt about Sidonis being dead. _Everyone has a choice,_ he’d spat, and he still felt that way but… he’d had a choice too and-

-and he wouldn’t have been thinking like this if Shepard had just let him take the damn _shot._

“You were pissed off and too… involved, you know? It couldn’t have hurt to take a step back,” she said, but she was unsure. All that fuss and fight to step in front of his gun and goddamn _Shepard_ wasn’t even sure if she’d wanted to. It was _his_ life and _his_ business and she wasn’t any more clear headed than he was.

“All of that and you moved anyway,” he snapped.

“Did… you not want me to?” she asked. She didn’t _get it,_ didn’t even realize what she’d done. Garrus had heard _Sidonis_ for the first time since the betrayal, the man who _started_ the entire team with him. He hadn’t been the cowardly bastard responsible for the lives of everyone he loved- he’d just been another death that Garrus helped happen.

“I never asked your opinion on my mission.” That was part of it.

“Sorry I stopped to question the necessity of a revenge kill,” she returned, sounding a little insulted. “Even if you had asked, you wouldn’t have listened unless I told you that you were completely in the right.”

“You don’t think I _was?”_ he demanded.

“I don’t think anything! _Merde,_ I don’t think anything about it because I don’t have context- you did, though, and I didn’t want you to make a decision because you were eaten up by all those situational details,” she groused. “I’m sorry- you just… you tell me if I’m doing something you aren’t sure about, so I figured I’d return the favour.”

“He might have gotten away,” Garrus protested.

“And that would’ve upset you?” she asked. He didn’t respond, staring down at her so hard that if he had lasers for eyes she might have been feeling uncomfortably warm right about then.

“If I wanted a therapist I’d ask Chakwas for a recommendations,” he snapped finally, turning back to his console. “I have a lot of work to do, Shepard, maybe we can talk later.”

“Garrus I didn’t want to upset you-”

“Well you did. I’ll see you later.”

. . . . .

By the time Faust came back to apologize properly- she had flowers and a speech and everything- Garrus was ready to forgive her. He wasn’t even angry at her, not really- it wasn’t her fault that Sidonis had betrayed them all to save himself, and wasn’t her fault that Garrus still couldn’t hate him entirely for it. It was convenient to blame her because what she’d done had highlighted his own conflicted feelings. He imagined that even if she’d let him take the shot, he wouldn’t have felt the satisfaction he’d been hoping for.

“Garrus I’m sorry I upset you. I _do_ trust you absolutely, and I never wanted to imply that I didn’t,” she began, holding out the flowers like they repulsed her.

They were purple and grew on Palaven and he yanked them from her hands (that were rapidly breaking out into hives) because they were probably poisonous to humans. “Shepard, don’t worry about it. I got angry at you because I wasn’t sure about what I did. I am, now.”

“What changed?” she asked, scratching at the rash on her hands.

“I figure that no matter how I feel about him, Sidonis wanted to die. The running away was just whatever was left of his self-preservation on auto-pilot,” he said. Faust looked… sad, maybe. Humans had ridiculously bendy faces that were always looking some sort of way or another.

“I’m sorry, Gare.” Sad, then.

“It’s all right. I avenged my team at the same time that I did what I could for the last of it- all that’s left is for me to get used to it,” he said. He’d already sent out everyone else’s letters- to Butler’s wife, Cachia’s father, Weaver’s aunt… maybe he’d look into any family Sidonis had. He hadn’t forgiven the guy completely, but this would help some of the resentment. “I shouldn’t have tried to blame you for my crisis,” he added.

“Oh you don’t have to say sorry to me,” she argued, waving him away (sort of- she was still working at that rash).

“Maybe you should go see Chakwas?” he advised. She seemed to just notice that the redness was crawling up her arms.

“That’s a damn fine idea Vakarian,” she said frantically, bolting out the door. He laughed a little and turned back to his console where the flowers were balanced on the table beside it. They were nice, if probably flesh-eating.


	5. Chapter 5

They had to make a Citadel stop eventually- Jack and Thane didn’t have any spare clothes, and the kitchens weren’t equipped to make anything more than the most basically nutritious dextro-amino acid meal. It was as good a time as any to take Shepard up on the raincheck he owed her, even if they didn’t have time for something as elaborate as he’d planned after defeating Saren.

They watched a Blasto movie while everyone did their various errands. The production budget must have been about five credits, and Garrus had heard better acting in the advertisements for Elcor Hamlet, but Faust was having a ball.

He put his arm around the back of her chair and held his breath. She turned to look at him and he pretended to be really interested in the sex scene between the Volus diplomat’s daughter and Blasto. She didn’t tell him to respect professional boundaries, though, so he considered it a win for the evening.

They were leaving the theatre when she finally said something about it.

“Was this a date?” If she were turian, he would have said he was certain, but humans and especially those in the military worked differently. They were more like individuals- Talus had told him that working with humans was difficult because they seemed to disdain the separation between work and personal life. Relationships weren’t clear-cut and there was so much grey area that their fraternization rules were pure steel. _Movies_ weren’t really professional, and neither was the dinner he’d wanted to take her on before, but she might see it as friendly.

“Did you want it to be?” he asked. Humans valued choice and options- not that turians didn’t, but turians liked orders. Her choice would be his order.

“Fuck you, Vakarian. Is it a date or what?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. _Well then._

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he insisted.

“Garrus if the next words out of your mouth are not _yes_ or _no_ I’m going to yank that bag holding your face together off and throw it into the Presidium lake,” she snapped, shifting back and forth quickly. He laughed shortly, feeling the skin tug again.

“Fine. Yes, it was,” he said. He watched her face flex and flutter and nothing _stayed still_ long enough to form a damn readable emotion… “Did you not want it to be?” he ventured cautiously.

“Oh I wanted it,” she assured him. “Hasn’t been two years for me, remember? I’m still… into this. Does this mean… you are too?” He wondered if that was why they hadn’t been as hot as they were before, because she figured two years was long enough to just forget about the feelings you had for your best friend. It had been- he’d been able to go days without thinking about Shepard, without feeling the raw, sandpaper feeling in his gut that reminded him she was dead.

She wasn’t dead though. She was alive and she was still his best friend, and she still had a pretty smile even with all those weird, blunt teeth. He was also getting kind of fond of her hair- he still didn’t really see the point but hers was neat.

“I am,” he promised her. “It’s… a little different now than it was, though.” She nodded.

“I can tell. _You’re_ a little different than you were.” He was glad she noticed that, at least.


	6. Chapter 6

Some things _were_ different but some things were the same- like how he only ever realized _after_ he did something that it was embarrassing and that he’d probably be laughed off the ship. It was why he was standing in the dim blue light of her aquarium with a bottle of dextro wine she couldn’t drink, playing some weird mood music with his arms spread like he was some sort of romantic master.

Faust was grinning and he was _floundering_ because he didn’t know what to say to a human. He’d already used _your hair looks nice,_ and actually opened his mouth to say _your waist looks supportive,_ and he was out of ideas. “Throw me a bone here, Shepard,” he begged, wishing that he could punch the stereo until the music stopped.

She kissed him- at least he thought it was kissing. He hadn’t done any research; he’d _said_ he was going to but studying how to be in a relationship with Shepard seemed clinical and unattached. He wanted them to _click_ and transcend all the interspecies weirdness that was supposed to come along with these sorts of relationships. His reward was that he couldn’t identify human kissing. “Was that good?” he asked.

“You are,” she murmured. Her arms were resting on his hips and for one breadth of a second he was entirely overwhelmed by how grateful he felt that human and turian evolution had progressed as it had so that she would be short enough to use his hips as armrests, and that his hips were so severely jutting compared to hers that she could see them as armrests.

“I just want this to go right,” he said. It was stupid to hold out hope- he didn’t know how to handle her, and her skin was so soft that she’d wilt on Palaven. Even touching her felt uncomfortably like it would injure her, and he didn’t like the feeling because Commander Shepard was the strongest person he knew. He didn’t want something like this to end up with him hurting her because he hadn’t wanted to do the research.

She straightened up and pulled him down by his carapace. He instinctively pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes slipping shut and his pulse thrumming. She let him do it, although it didn’t seem like she’d watched any vids about turians either. “It’s like a kiss,” he told her.

“I like it. I like you. We can wait to have sex, if you want.” He froze because he’d disappointed her so badly that she didn’t want to go through with this anymore. He’d truly and royally fucked up the chance he would have taken in a heartbeat if he were just a little bit younger.

“N-No, it’s fine. I promise I know what I’m doing,” he said quickly, pulling back. The moment broke and Faust looked up at him crookedly.

“We can wait, Gare. We’re gunna blow the Collectors a new fucking blowhole and then we can see about getting horizontal but… I don’t know. I didn’t suggest this because I thought we’d be better off getting through the sexy parts quickly,” she said. She couldn’t explain it, clearly, which was stressing him out a little- was it him? Was he rushing her?

“Shepard-”

“I want you to stay with me,” she tried, ignoring him for a second. “I don’t want you to leave but I also… don’t want to stuff the sex into two hours. _Last night alive_ sex is a downer.” On that they agreed, but he’d been so… ready. Well, not ready at all, but emotionally prepared to face her.

Sort of.

“So… stay, but no sex?” he asked. She nodded, drawing him over to the bed and motioning for him to get comfortable. “What do we do then?” That was a dumb question because he and Shepard could fill hours with nothing.

“I haven’t kicked your ass in _Shipwreck_ lately,” she pointed out, casually projecting the game on the screen. The goal was to destroy as many vessels as possible in a limited amount of time, while ensuring that your projectile didn’t fall into space. It was a rudimentary game, but it killed time.

“It’s because I’ve been kicking yours,” he returned automatically, syncing his omnitool into the game. She stopped him, just for a second, to kiss him again. It was weird and he tried to participate, but wasn’t sure if he could consider it a success.

“We’re still… a thing, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course.” He’d been wondering the same thing- ‘blowing off steam’, as it were, was usually a key component to turian military relationships. He supposed they were doing the same thing, just… without sex. Unusual, but not unpleasant. He knocked foreheads with her to reassure her. “Whatever happens, Shepard, I’m gunna be right there with you,” he promised.

“And if I wanted to try sex _after_ the Collector base?” she asked.

“Same deal, only I’ll be naked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baddadadada, that's that. I've just got a whole lot of feelings about how Garrus develops throughout the Reaper War and am fiercely defensive of his development as HIS and not a direct result of Shepard.
> 
> anyway, nebulaad.tumblr.com for my writing blog where stuff gets posted and other such nonsense. also if you add /ask to the end of that address you'll get taken to my askbox where you can give me prompts.


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